International Police The Beginning
by Ultra Pidgeot
Summary: The tale of the origins of the International Police. Not shipping or slash or any of that stupid stuff. Uh, yeah. This is my first story here, so please review!


A tallish man in khaki slacks and a blue button down shirt sat in an airy café, a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. His long fingers wrapped themselves around the stem of a champagne flute and brought the mimosa to his lips. He smiled and rotated towards the center of the restaurant, a two or three foot depression in with a few simple white lines decorating its wooden flooring. A man in a tuxedo stood in the center, microphone in hand.

"Welcome to Seven Stars Restaurant! It's 9:30 and time for our next battle! Youngster Leonardo versus Lass Rebecca!"

The announcer left the ring, and a Mr. Mime (also in a tuxedo) cast a translucent blue shield around the small battlefield. Leonardo stepped forward and bowed. Rebecca curtsied. Then, the two young battlers released their Pokémon. The man in the blue shirt ate a few eggs, half watching the battle, half watching the other patrons of the restaurant. Leonardo's Starly slammed against the force field, downy feathers shooting out in a most comical way. A waiter, also in a tuxedo, approached him, his pencil thin moustache wavering as he spoke.

"Sir, telephone for you."

The man rose and walked towards a door near the kitchen. He stepped into a small room with a black telephone mounted in the wall. He answered it.

"Hello?"

A voice-made extremely deep from a filter on the other end-spoke.

"AGENT PERKINS. WE NEED YOU TO CUT YOUR VACATION SHORT. WE'RE SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. LEAVE THE RESTAURANT AND GO OUTSIDE. JERRY WILL BE THERE, WAITING TO ESCORT YOU TO BASE."

"Understood, sir."

He hung up the telephone and returned to his table. He sat down and took the champagne flute and drained the last of the mimosa. Ellis Perkins proceeded to place a 500 Poké note on the table and slipped out. As he left, the restaurant shook with the force of one of the battler's attacks. When he came into the sunlight, he saw a man standing there with two Pokéballs in hand.

"Agent Perkins. Good to see you."

"You too, Jerry. Where we headed?"

Jerry released two Ninjask, which darted about, humming noisily.

"The base on Boon Island."

The two Ninjask descended, grabbed the two agents under the shoulders, and lifted into the air before taking off and blistering speeds.

In a few hours, they were there. The duo alighted on the banks of the lake on Boon Island, the two tired Ninjask disappearing into Jerry's Pokéballs. Deep blue water lapped at the sandy bank, and a massive Gyarados surfaced. It shook itself, water spraying across the two men. They clambered aboard the blue leviathan, and, as they did so, grabbed two small pony tanks and diving masks off its frills and pulled them around their faces. Jerry gave it a small nudge in between the neck scales, and it descended.

Massive columns of bubbles swirled upwards, casting the rapidly dimming light in a multitude of directions. The Gyarados pulled out of its steep dive and leveled out before breaking the surface of a massive underwater cavern. It glided to the rocky surface, and Ellis and Jerry clambered off. A lanky man with messy black hair greeted them.

"Jerry! Ellis! How are you?"

Ellis dried himself with a towel a lab assistant had given him.

"Just fine, thanks."

The man handed Jerry a manila envelope and three Pokéballs.

"Three more guys you need to pick up. And some more energized Ninjask for you."

Jerry chuckled and took them. He waved to Ellis and stepped aboard the Gyarados again.

"Be seein' you."

Ellis waved back.

"Yeah. Back at ya."

Jerry pulled the mask on his face and once more, the Gyarados was off. Ellis faced the messy-haired man.

"So, Grant, what's up?"

Grant sighed and approached a table decorated with a map of the Hoenn region. Several burly generals stood around it. They were pointing at the table and bickering. A few pushed small plastic tanks and planes about the table, grimacing.

"The war in Hoenn is not going well. Our last major offensive push fell apart due to guerilla attacks on the rear of the army. They just killed all the nurses and took all the supplies and left the men to starve."

One of the generals piped up.

"Yep! That's what we're sending you in for! You're gonna land in Lilycove, and from there, you're gonna go into deep cover operations and kill their leader."

Ellis looked at the general, confused.

"You mean we've identified their leader?"

The general guffawed mightily.

"Of course! He's located in Ever Grande!"

Ellis faceplamed.

"Why don't we just bomb Ever Grande then?"

"If you fail, that's what we're going to have to do. If we dropped the bomb on them, the fallout would sweep across the island of Hoenn. That'd kill the majority of the diverse Pokémon of the island. As handy a solution as that'd be, we try to not make everyone on Earth hate us."

Grant turned, propping himself up against the table.

"So, Perkins. You in?"

Ellis shrugged.

"Don't have much choice do I?"

-x-

The H-34 flew low across the water on its way to Lilycove City. The city consisted mostly of rubble, twisted rebar jutting out of massive concrete blocks like some gigantic comb. Perkins surveyed the bombed out city, groups of men clad in OD green scurrying about below him. It touched down outside of a small cluster of tents. Perkins stepped off and strode towards the largest tent. A officer emerged, his eyes wild and frantic.

"Major Richardson, good to see you."

The major nodded.

"Yes, listen, we really need to get this done with, so, let's y'know, make it snappy."

Perkins walked calmly behind him, hands behind his back.

"If I might ask, sir, why so, ahem...jittery?"

The major spun on his heel and began hissing at Perkins.

"The last four COs at this post were fragged within one month of being appointed. My one month anniversary is fast approaching."

Perkins backed away from the Major.

"Understood, sir."

The Major once more began quickly pacing to a tent near a bombed out brothel. He poked his head in.

"Private Surge?"

A young man bolted up from his cot, causing his sunglasses to fly off his face. He hopped off the cot and jumped to attention, crushing the glasses beneath his boot.

"Sir!"

"At ease, Private. Would you escort Lieutenant Perkins here to meet with Lieutenant Nelson?"

The private picked up an M60 and several belts of ammo.

"Sure thing, Major."

Richardson fast-walked back to his tent, eyes darting about furiously. Surge shook his head.

"Poor paranoid schmuck."

THe two men watched the Major walk away before Surge piped up.

"So. You're meeting Lieutenant Nelson, huh? You know he's MACH SOG, right?"

Surge grabbed a pair of aviators off a sleeping private and put them on. Perkins chuckled.

"Yeah, I know."

Surge nodded, swinging the machine gun about.

"You on some kind of mission or something?"

Perkins pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Surge, who declined.

"Yeah, I know."

A few minutes later, they arrived at a large tent.

"Lieutenant Nelson, you've got company."

The tent's front flap burst open, and another tall man emerged, 1911 in hand.

"Who is it?"

"Lieutenant Ellis J. Perkins, MACH SOG."

Nelson eyed Perkins suspiciously.

"MACH SOG, huh?"

Perkins nodded. Nelson chuckled softly.

"Surge, you're dismissed."

Surge stepped to the side and stood near the tent's entrance, safety switch flicked off. Nelson gestured to Perkins.

"Please, step into my office..."


End file.
